


Kinked

by tiger_in_the_flightdeck



Category: The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: M/M, Suggestive Themes, Tails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5133035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger_in_the_flightdeck/pseuds/tiger_in_the_flightdeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David never should have tried to get Basil to dance. </p><p>A fic fill for my Halloween Trick or Treat on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beltainefaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltainefaerie/gifts).



“Don’t move!”

“I’m not moving, but you need to stop tugging. It won’t get us anywhere if you keep that-Ah!”

“Just relax, and perhaps that will help.”

“I will relax when you stop tugging!”

With his ears flat to his head and his lips pursed up in a pout of concentration, Basil tried to twist to look behind himself at the problem. That only served to pull harder as he twitched his hips, leaving me gasping. “I told you to stop that!” I snapped when his hips finally stopped shifting from side to side.

“This is your fault, you know.” he pouted louder, if that was at all possible. Basil’s whiskers were quivering in annoyance and he eventually crossed his arms over his thin chest.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment then looked at the ceiling to count to ten. When that didn’t help, I counted backwards. “Of course it is, my dear.” I mumbled eventually, patting his head.

“On the count of three, we are going to roll.” Basil instructed after pushing his head into my hand for the affection. “One… Two…” He twisted and spun, his short, sharp little claws digging into the carpet as he tried to drag himself away.

“It doesn’t twist that way!” After I stopped shouting in pain, I grabbed him around the waist to hold him still. “What happened to three?” I croaked then collapsed on his back, gasping for breath.

I didn’t need to see his face to know that he was scowling. Whether it was because of our predicament, or because his plan hadn’t work, I couldn’t be certain of. “You would have tensed up on three.” he said and reached back to half-heartedly swat at my hip.

“There’s nothing for it,” I panted and struggled to push myself up on my arms. “We need to call Mrs. J.”

“We’ll never hear the end of it.”

One hour, half a dozen crumpets, and a straight seven minutes of laughing on the part of our dear landlady later, found us sitting in front of our fire again, each cradling our poor, kinked tails. Mine was missing a patch of fur where it had been rubbed raw.

I glared up at the ceiling once more, where the spritely notes of a violin that had started this whole mess, picked back up. “Next time that blasted man plays a tango upstairs, I’m going to go scratch his ankles.”


End file.
